


I'll Kiss You Good Morning, Make You Pancakes

by tsauergrass



Series: Prompted [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, but at last it's all good so I guess, draco is stubborn and wouldn't say what he needs to say, harry is hurty, too?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21800650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsauergrass/pseuds/tsauergrass
Summary: “Did you think I’d still be waiting for you?”Across from the table, Draco’s mouth thins. The bar is dim, the buttery lights low and music slow. The booth is packed too tight with the two of them.“No,” Draco says. Then, “I’m sorry.”Harry laughs, empty. “Too late.”Draco Malfoy doesn't know how to say I love you, but he will need to if he wants to have Harry back again.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Prompted [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1416109
Comments: 19
Kudos: 208





	I'll Kiss You Good Morning, Make You Pancakes

“Did you think I’d still be waiting for you?”

Across from the table, Draco’s mouth thins. The bar is dim, the buttery lights low and music slow. The booth is packed too tight with the two of them.

“No,” Draco says. Then, “I’m sorry.”

Harry laughs, empty. “Too late.” He picks up a beer mat and starts tearing it into pieces. He is beginning to regret not ordering liquor when he had the chance. “You should have said that two months ago.”

“I—”

“Or maybe in one of your letters. Oh, wait. You didn’t write any back.” Another empty laugh. “How forgetful of me.”

“Harry,” Draco says. If not for the one year they’ve fucked, Harry would have missed the slight tremble of his voice—would have missed the way his fingers dig into the wooden table, tips white. “Please.”

Harry’s jaw hardens. Because that was all it was: they fucked. Nothing else existed. Not the words he whispered one morning two months ago, not knowing Draco was awake. Not the hundred letters he’d written after, growing more and more desperate, ache spilling from the words into the parchment.

“No.” Harry doesn’t look at Draco. He sets his jaw again to hide the tremble. “I know what you’re here for, and I don’t care. You can fuck right off. I don’t—”

“You don’t know what I’m here for—”

“See if I care.”

“Harry—”

“Stop,” Harry grits his teeth, “saying my name, Malfoy.”

Because this is who they are: Potter and Malfoy. Not lovers. Just two people who fuck each other because it is convenient. Not people who kiss, because only lovers kiss. Draco has never kissed him and, when he tried, had pushed him away and vanished all together.

Harry is over the stage of aching madness. Now he just wants Draco to leave. Draco has no right showing up in front of him two months later, acting as though nothing happened and they can just go back to fucking.

I love you, Harry told him.

And Draco pushed himself off the bed and never came back.

“…and this is inadequate, I am not going to—to _insult_ you by trying to make up for everything with mere words, but—” Draco is talking, his voice trembling— “I’m sorry. And I do not expect you to forgive me, or wait for me, but if you are…no, if you will still take me, I—”

“If I will still take you?” Harry laughs again. It tugs at the gaping hole in his chest. “I don’t have to fuck you, Malfoy. There are other people.”

“Not— _fuck.”_ Draco looks pained. “Not just that.”

It takes Harry a moment to realize what Draco is saying. When he does, something in his chest shifts—something with edges so sharp it feels like bleeding.

“You still won’t say it,” Harry says softly. “Even if you’re pleading, you still won’t say the words.”

“Harry. Please.”

“Prove it, then.” He tears the beer mat into its last shreds, loosens his fingers. The pieces land softly on the table. He looks up. “Prove that what you say is true.”

It is impossible. For a moment, Draco looks like he’s going to close his eyes—to lean back, to give up, to leave. But he doesn’t.

Instead, tentatively and slowly, he reaches over.

Touches Harry’s hard jaw with his fingers, cups his face.

Then, softly, Draco kisses him.

When Draco doesn’t pull back, Harry’s eyes fall shut. Draco’s mouth is so soft, so careful. He doesn’t ask for entrance; instead he kisses Harry’s bottom lip, kisses his top lip. Kisses, gingerly, the corner of his mouth. Harry lets out a shuddering breath. He grants Draco entrance anyway, his mouth falling open. His walls crumbling one after another until he is left bleeding raw in the center.

He wants to say Draco’s name. He can’t. Draco’s hands slide to the back of his neck, cupping his head, kissing him like he’s holding him together. The table gets in the way of closeness, and Harry growls. Draco laughs, soft. Taking longer than necessary, working his way around the tangled limbs and wooden table, he comes to sit beside Harry. Harry kisses messily at his mouth, at his chin. Buries his face into the nook of Draco’s neck, clutch tight.

“Shh,” Draco says. Wraps his arms around Harry, murmurs into his hair. “I’m here. I’m sorry. Let’s go home. We’ll sleep together. I’ll let you hog the blankets.” A wet laugh. Draco presses a kiss into the raven locks, strokes. “We’ll wake up together. I’ll kiss you good morning, make you pancakes…”

**Author's Note:**

> I think, reading the summary, it might be a little misleading since it sounds like Draco will eventually say "I love you" out loud, so I just want to say: he does, just in his own way. <3
> 
> Thank you for reading, and if you'd like, come find me on [Tumblr](https://tsauergrass.tumblr.com/) and cry about these boys together!


End file.
